


Name the Wolf

by shuns



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Because there's a twist, Draco is not happy about wearing a red cloak, F/M, Fluff, Hermione's Haven Roll a Dabble, Little Red Riding Hood - Freeform, The better to eat you with, What a big mouth you have, twisted fairytales
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 15:34:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18663262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuns/pseuds/shuns
Summary: It was a dark and stormy night. Draco had accidentally grabbed the wrong cloak -- he wouldn't be caught dead in red. But with the moon on the rise and Hermione's strange behavior, perhaps he should be careful about what expressions he uses.Name the Wolfand she might come to the door.





	Name the Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> In response to April 2019 Hermione's Haven Roll -a-Dabble. Dramione pairing in Little Red Riding Hood.

With a pop, Draco stumbled into the foyer almost spilling heavy, filled-to-the-brim market basket that had unbalanced him.

He hated shopping, but Hermione had been sick all week. He had gone to three different shops in the pouring rain to get her _two_  giant, organic, grass-fed, free-range beef steaks, a disgusting green smoothie that looked like it had been made from pureed bow-truckles, and a bottle of giant pills from a muggle chemist that if he weren't intimately acquainted with her mouth he would wonder how she could swallow them. He had left in such a rush with her list, and he had grabbed the wrong cloak. Only after he apperated, did he realize it was that obnoxious Gryffindor red one - or has he liked to think of it the _scarlet sartorial sacrilege_. 

Why was he doing this? Well, that was the question, wasn’t it?

After the War, the Wizarding World seemed intent on sweeping the late unpleasantness under the rug along with people who caused it, _not Hermione Jean Granger_. When Pansy was fired from her job at Twiflitt and Tattings, Hermione gave an interview to _Witch Weekly_ wearing a daring new dress robe designed by her dear friend Pans from her new Pandora’s Box collection- ‘Just remember there is hope at the bottom of every Pandora's Box.’ When she found Greg pushing a mop at the Ministry and grousing, she hired him as a caretaker at Noddy Leach Reserve. Hermione had bought the former Lestrange Keep cleaned it of curses and created a school for the werewolf cubs and a space for remnants of Gryeback's pack and his victims. The 'cubs' as Greg called him kept him busy, and he couldn't complain. When they found Theo half-dead in Knockturn Alley after his latest bender of whiskey and potions, she had cleaned him up and set him to procuring ingredients for her new organic apothecary. He was in China this week coaxing shell shavings from Shèn, the giant clam monster. Hermione had even won Mother over when she demanded the return Bellatrix’s body to the Black sisters for burial. It was like she had taken on the whole of Slytherin House as her newest pet project.

Draco had benefited the most if you counted sharing a tiny flat and bed with a grumpy cat and the most obnoxious Gryffindor to ever have gryffed. She was forever on a crusade, boldly stomping towards another shouting match with even more arm-waving. He wasn’t complaining - much. The self-righteous indignation was tiresome, but she always put on a good show. With her passions still running high, it did make the sex fantastic and frequent, his favorite kind.

Not that he had been having any lately. He couldn’t even touch her without her snapping at him.

 _It must be close to her moon time_. She was very regular. He kept track because no one wanted to get close to _that_. He tracked the moon for ingredient gathering and brewing, and he noticed that they had synced up with her cycle when they had first gotten together. The Moon would be at its full peak tonight as would her - what did she call it? MPS? SPM? PSM? Whatever it was called, it was a bloody nightmare, in the literal sense. She would be poking and testing him all night. He thought back to their last conversation.

_“Have you noticed anything different about me?”_

_He blinked because he was caught off guard - this was a test. He needed to be very careful, because she had been up, down and all around, lately. The little werewolves were running her ragged. “You are a delight to the ears, eyes, and cock my love.”_

_She huffed, “Anything else?”_

_The wrong answer then. Lightning elimination round. Her hair seemed a bit more glossy. Her eyes were more luminous. Her breasts looked a bit bigger? Improving on perfection, if you asked him. She really didn’t need beauty glamours. Then he noticed it; there was a bandage on her wrist. He reached out and held it up._

_“Just a scrape, I was clumsy.”_

But Hermione didn’t have accidents. She was ever so careful around the little wolflings. But even still sometimes they forgot and would bite.

A shiver went up his spine. The steak - she had been craving meat. The pills - she had been sick this week as the moon waxed — her appearance - subtle changes in how she looked. The odd bandage - she didn't want to talk about. It was a bite. A werewolf bite.  

 _Good Gods,_ she was going to turn into a werewolf. Draco looked out the window. The sky was darkening, and it wasn't the storm. If he left now, he would miss her change. Or was this a trap? Was she luring him in her den so she could turn him? She wouldn't want to face this alone. Draco hesitated. He loved her. Really loved her. She was a fool to have taken a chance on him. He was no hero. He wouldn't stay here with her and be turned, even for love. 

He dropped the basket on the counter.

“Draco, is that you?” She called from the lounge.

He remembered the story she had read to the little wolflings that week something about Little Red Riding Hood. ' _My what big ears you have,_ ' she said. ' _Yes, the better to hear you with my dear,_ ' replied the Wolf.

He gulped, “Um, yes. In the kitchen. I just remembered I need to go out for, um, something.”

“Come in here. I need to talk to you.”

He shuffled into the lounge. Her eyes were huge. Pools of chocolate was what he compared them to in happier times. Delicious. But now -  did he see the lupine gold? They certainly were shining. Had she been crying? Was she upset about what she was going to do?

_My what big eyes you have - the better to see you with._

“I can’t see you unless you step closer.” Draco bit back a laugh. The storm had cleared, and the moon was rising, he could see it through the window. She smiled and patted the spot next to her on the sofa. He only saw her teeth, those perfectly straight, white teeth.  Did they look sharper? He was sure he saw her licking her lips.

_What big teeth you have - the better to eat you up in one bite._

Oh, Salazar, he was going to die.

“I don’t know how to tell you this, Draco,” she started then stopped.

“I think I know what you're going to say.”

She looked shocked, then shook her head, “No, I really think you don’t. Just hear me out. I need to say this in one go, or I’ll lose my nerve. Something - something’s happened to me. It's a big change - a life shift really. It wasn’t something that I thought would ever happen to me. But it changes everything. Everything. I’m hoping that after I tell you, you’ll want to stay with me. Maybe even be part of it," her voice had trailed off to barely a whisper as she finished.

“Hermione, I love you, but you have to let me go-,” her face fell, and shoulders shrugged forward, “I would do anything for you - you know that. But I can’t- I won’t become a werewolf.”

She was dumbstruck, “Werewolf? What are you talking about? You bloody, great pillock I’m trying to tell you I’m pregnant.”

“But the raw steaks, being sick this week during the waxing moon, your medicine, the bite on your hand?"

She sighed, “The steaks are for iron, I'm almost anemic. I'm sick because of morning sickness because plot twist it lasts the whole bloody day. The pills are my vitamins. It’s not a bite when I went to the Healer land she told me it was twins I nearly fell down. When I caught myself, I scraped my wrist.”

He sat down hard. _Twins_. “Two- you're pregnant with two?”

“Yes, Twins usually means two,” she noted, wryly.

He got up and paced the room like a tiger in a cage, raking his hand through his hair, “Twins. Are they sure of it? There weren’t some of your lady bits in the way?”

She huffed, “I’ve had both a Healer test and a sonogram. I’ve done the charm myself. Yes, it’s twins. Yes, there are two of them. Yes, I’m going to keep them. Not that you've asked. If- if you don’t want to be part of their lives, I understand.”

“Granger?”

“Yes, Malfoy?”

“What a big mouth you have,” she sputtered indignantly, “All the better to kiss me with and shut me up?”

She smirked exactly like a Malfoy Mother should, “Gladly.”


End file.
